


Our Hearts

by parttimehuman



Series: Our Hands [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Boys being adorable and in love, Bubble Bath, Established Relationship, Lovely Surprises, M/M, Smut, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parttimehuman/pseuds/parttimehuman
Summary: On Nolan's first Valentine's Day with Brett, life has the audacity to come between them once again in the form of a late shift at the grocery store. Brett wouldn't be Brett though, if he didn't somehow find away around the obstacles in their way.





	Our Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtraSteps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraSteps/gifts).



> xx

Valentine’s Day falls on a Thursday this year, and of course, because life would be boring without the occasional obstacle in his way, Nolan has to work the late shift. Derek generously offered to give him the following Friday off to make up for it, but Friday isn’t Valentine’s day, and after weeks of secretly practicing all the best love songs with his guitar and without Brett noticing, he can’t help but be a little bit disappointed. 

 

Of course, his boyfriend was no help at all in the morning, simply letting Nolan sleep when he got up and got ready for work, sneaking around Nolan’s apartment and out of the front door without making any noise like the traitor he is, letting Nolan wake up to a handwritten ‘Happy Valentine’s Day, I love you.’ note on the cold pillow next to his own. 

 

It shouldn’t matter, since Nolan loves Brett unconditionally on every single day of the year, and Valentine’s Day is just an opportunity for businesses to sell their crap in the name of love, which Nolan knows better than most people after several years of working at the Hale’s grocery store. Still, it’s the first Valentine’s Day that he spends actually having a boyfriend, and more importantly, the first one with Brett, and if anyone deserves to be spoiled and showered in love and affection, it’s Brett Talbot, god of romance and grand gestures, and Nolan was kind of looking forward to doing exactly that. 

 

Instead, he spends the morning doing dishes and cleaning up his apartment so that it will at least look nice when Brett returns from work in the afternoon. He takes his mother up on her offer to lend him her car to pick up all the flowers he’s ordered, since he’d never manage to get them home by foot. The obvious choice were roses, of course, and it’s not like the flower shop doesn’t have them on a million different special offers for Valentine’s Day anyway, but flowers are kind of a special thing between him and Brett, and there’s no way he’s going for the absolute cliché version, so he decided against them. 

 

Rather than roses, what Nolan tried his best to do was coming up with all the kinds of flowers Brett has ever gifted him. Obviously, he failed terribly, not knowing any of their names and not being able to remember them well enough to describe them to the very annoyed looking flower shop employee, but he did his best. By the time he has to leave for work, the apartment is as full of colorful plants as it was months ago, back when they announced Brett’s homecoming and their reunion. 

 

There are sunflowers, which seem to be the kind Brett likes to gift Nolan the most, for whatever reason he might have. There are tulips, because Nolan knows Brett adores their simple beauty. He’s got lilies in different shades of white and pink and violet, pink orchids, yellow and orange marigolds, an abundance of dahlias because they’re the ones he finds the prettiest, blue delphinium flowers and daisies and at least a dozen different kinds he still hasn’t learned the names of. Nolan arranges them in a wild mix all over the living room until neither carpet nor coffee table are visible and the sunlight shining through the windows makes the whole scene appear like he’s standing in an actual flower field instead of his apartment. 

 

Satisfied with his work but disappointed that he won’t be around to see Brett’s reaction, Nolan puts on the green polo shirt and heads to the store, letting out a sigh as he thinks about the nine hours ahead of him that he’ll spend watching people buy chocolates and stupid little teddy bears and bouquets of roses and cupcakes while Brett will come home and take a shower all by himself and they won’t see each other until late at night. By the time they do, Nolan will be sweaty and exhausted, drained of any motivation for social interaction. 

 

*

 

Of course, because life is annoying and hates happiness, but Brett is the best and simply refuses to watch life making his sweetheart unhappy, the day goes slightly different that Nolan has anticipated after all. He’s merely two hours into his shift when all of a sudden and without warning, while Nolan busies himself by stacking cans on top of each other, something happens that practically launches him back in time by approximately seven months. 

 

Nolan sees him only from the corner of his eye at first, looking like he did all that time ago, just showing up outside of the large window at the front of the grocery store, still in his work clothes, the dirty sweatshirt sticking to his skin, dust lightening his hair and darkening his face a little. Nolan has a déjà-vu, the exceptional beauty of the tall construction worker drawing his eyes on him and making his face feel all warm. 

 

It takes Nolan a moment to realize that he’s not reliving the best worst story of his life, but that Brett is actually here, just a few feet away from him, looking hot like he always does like this, with the proof of his hard work and strength and ability to create still sticking to his skin, his sleeves rolled up and showing off the thin layer of blond hair on his forearms and the vein on the back of his hand, the little cuts covering his calloused hands. Those hands will never not drive Nolan insane, and he’ll never not want them on him immediately whenever he sees them, no matter how inappropriate the thought is in that moment. 

 

With a searching look in his piercing blue eyes, Brett enters the store, grinning when he finds Nolan standing not far from him, clearly frozen to the spot, his task mentally abandoned. 

 

It doesn’t make sense, because Brett was working in an entirely different part of Beacon Hills, and the grocery store isn’t even remotely on the way from there to home, not the home they’ve made for themselves in Nolan’s apartment, and not the one Brett officially still shares with his best friend Liam. If he wanted to get groceries, Brett could have picked at least three better situated places, so the only business he could possibly have in this one is Nolan. 

 

“Hello Sir,” Nolan says with an innocent smile that is one hundred percent fake and doesn’t need to be held up for the sake of fooling his colleague Sarah, who’s watching them from the register. 

 

Brett nods and smiles back, silently encouraging him to play this game. 

 

“Are you looking for something in particular? Maybe I can help you,” Nolan offers. The question combined with the sultry tone in his voice borders on something that would happen in a really bad porn video, but he can’t help himself. 

 

“Oh, indeed,” Brett replies, looking all serious, sporting a way better poker face than Nolan does. “I’m looking for something very special. I didn’t make it this morning, so I hope it’s still available.” 

 

Nolan has to suppress both a laugh and a roll of his eyes. “Oh, I see,” he answers sweetly, setting down the box he’s been holding in his arms and starting to move down the aisle, trusting Brett to follow him without looking back. “I think I know what you’re looking for, Sir. And I think I’ve got exactly what you need.” 

 

“I bet you do,” Brett mutters under his breath when nobody else is within earshot, walking towards the back of the store and the entrance to the storage area behind Nolan, eyes probably trained on Nolan’s ass. 

 

“For you? Always,” Nolan replies, pushing the heavy door open but not flicking the lights on. 

 

A second later, Brett is pressed against him, arms wrapping around Nolan and holding him tight, breath ghosting over the skin behind his ear. “I know you don’t have a lot of time,” Brett whispers, but Nolan actually thinks he doesn’t have time to waste because of the strong body rubbing and grinding against him, and not because he’s technically at work. “I just couldn’t wait until tonight. I need to have you right now.” 

 

Nolan shudders at those words, leaning back against Brett and baring his throat to him. How many times has he dreamed of this happening? He’s had to take care of his horny self in the bathroom more than once because Brett kept texting him dirty things or snapping him pictures, but Brett has never actually come over. It feels strange, in a way, to be back where their story began now that everything’s changed so much, now that they’re boyfriends and being together seems like the most natural thing in the world. If only the Nolan that brought a bunch of hot construction workers cold drinks that summer had known that this is where he’d be only a few months later, in the arms of Brett Talbot and pressed against a stack of heavy boxes… 

 

“Have me,” Nolan whispers back. His focus wasn’t the best to begin with today, and after seeing Brett returning to the store, there isn’t a way to not be turned on beyond belief, so Nolan is hard before Brett slips a hand inside his pants to stroke him while greedy lips kiss his neck. It’s a little complicated to reach behind him to unzip Brett’s pants while also trying to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s hectic and messy and kind of exciting, different from all the thorough love making in the privacy of Nolan’s apartment where they’re selfless and generous and determined to make the other feel better than ever before. 

 

This time, in the half dark of the storage room at Nolan’s work place, it’s quick and dirty, grabby hands pulling just enough for their pants to come down around their thighs. Nolan pushes a few things aside and Brett fishes in the pocket of his pants to a tiny bottle of lube and a condom before he bends him over to get him slicked up and ready with cautious but purposeful touches of his fingers. 

 

“Remember that you’re at work, Noleyboy,” Brett mumbles in his ear with his dick lined up and Nolan’s hands grabbing the edge of something cold and hard beneath him. “We wouldn’t want anyone to catch us, would we? So you have to be quiet. Can you do that?” 

 

Nolan presses his lips together and looks back at him, silently pleading, but they both know he’s making promises because he can’t wait to be fucked, so Brett pulls him up and against his chest, covering his mouth with one hand before he pushes inside. 

 

It’s been a matter of minutes, from Nolan spotting Brett in front of the store to Brett holding him up and keeping him quiet, but it feels like a part of him has been waiting all day, and a part of him has been waiting since the beginning of July. He’d be begging Brett to fuck him if he could. 

 

One strong arm holds him steady by the hips as Brett thrusts into him hard and fast without ever interrupting, a big soft hand muffles his moans and his throat muffles Brett’s. The only noises they make are from their heavy panting and their bare skin slapping together. It takes a minute until every thrust hits his prostate and Nolan becomes really weak on his legs, another half minute until Brett can’t stay completely silent anymore and starts making little grunts.

 

Nolan lifts his shirt just in time, foresightful enough to avoid cum stains on the green polo. Brett bites down and buries his teeth in Nolan’s neck as he comes, his entire body weight on Nolan for a moment. 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” Brett says as he eases out carefully, then slaps Nolan’s ass and pulls his pants back up. 

 

“I always knew I got myself the most romantic boyfriend in existence,” Nolan smiles, cleaning himself up with a tissue from his pocket and getting properly dressed again, “but this was something else, seriously.” 

 

“What can I say,” Brett smirks, “not even non-matching schedules or stupid work can keep me from showing you my love.” 

 

“I better get back to work,” Nolan sighs, allowing himself to lean against Brett for a moment longer, “and you should go home. Take a shower, relax a little before I come home. I know it’ll be late, but maybe we can squeeze in some Valentine’s time still?” 

 

“For you? Always,” Brett promises. Nolan presses a kiss to his cheek before he pulls the door open, spotting the unbelievable line forming at check-out even from across the entire store. Welcome back to reality, he thinks, tearing away from Brett to go open his register. 

 

“See you tonight then.” 

 

“Can’t wait.” 

 

“You know I can’t either.” 

 

“Counting on it,” Brett says with a wink, and then they part. Nolan sighs as he opens his register and accepts his tragic fate of having more than six hours left to go until freedom and a line of impatiently waiting customers in front of him. He tells himself it’s best not to imagine Brett getting home and cleaning up without him, getting changed into something soft and cozy, standing in Nolan’s kitchen to cook like he does so often or sitting on his red couch, unable to stretch his legs out but still looking like he’s never belonged anywhere else. 

 

It gets busy like it usually does around that time of the day, with people getting off work and doing some shopping before returning home to their families and loved ones, grabbing dinner or something sweet to gift to their valentine. After a while, Nolan manages to somewhat concentrate on the job he’s doing, but then he’s surprised once again by Brett’s face showing up where it isn’t really expected, which is at the end of the line at his register, standing there with a shopping cart that’s filled to the brim, looking around like he’s just another customer when Nolan looks at him, and looking right at Nolan as soon as Nolan has forced his eyes to return to the screen in front of him and the items he’s scanning. 

 

“Hello,” he says, over and over again, in a perfectly polite voice and with a smile that’s friendly but not lingering. “Thank you. Here you go. Have a nice evening. Thank you. Bye.” Brett comes closer and Nolan wishes he’d have more time to steal glances at the things he’s loading onto the conveyor belt. Thanks to his job at the grocery store, keeping his fridge filled is the one part of adulting Nolan knows he doesn’t fail at, so it shouldn’t be necessary for Brett to buy to many things. 

 

“Hello, Sir,” Brett says when he’s finally up, filling the silence. Nolan feels weird. He’s a little reluctant to play along and use his customer voice on his own boyfriend, but he probably shouldn’t be just staring at him either, so he nods, looking at Brett curiously, searching his eyes for a hint for what’s going on.

 

Nolan swallows and finds his voice. He starts pulling items over the scanner with his right hand and piling them on the counter with his left hand. “This looks like you’ve got a very nice evening planned, Sir,” he says, pretending like he’s the kind of cashier who makes conversation about the things people buy. He isn’t, but he’s listened to Sarah often enough to know what it would sound like if he was. 

 

“Indeed, I do,” Brett replies. “It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. I intend to make my boyfriend the happiest man on earth tonight.” 

 

Nolan wants to shake his head, taking in all the stuff that Brett is buying - foods unlike those Nolan usually keeps a lot of around, with actual vegetables that only Brett would know how to cook into something delicious. There’s enough candy to last them until Christmas, chocolate and things that look suspiciously like they’re meant to be baked into a cake. So far, it’s not even that ridiculous. Brett loves preparing dinner for Nolan as much as Nolan likes to watch him, meaning that he’s plastered to Brett’s back with his arms around him while Brett stands at the stove, enjoying his boyfriend’s body warmth and the smell of what he’s making. It’s become a thing, and since Brett will be home much before Nolan, it makes sense that he would do it that night as well. 

 

“I bet your boyfriend feels like the happiest man on earth every day of the year,” Nolan replies, blushing lightly as he says it, partly because people could hear him if they cared to pay attention, and partly because after the food, what follows are candles, and then airballoons, and several different bath bombs, and with every item he passes from one hand to the other, Nolan feels his cheeks heating up, and he must look like a tomato by the time he’s through the whole purchase, because he can never help himself but blush when Brett displays his affection for him. 

 

“Maybe he does,” Brett shrugs, “can’t hurt to make absolutely sure though, can it?” 

 

Nolan tries to ignore the ridiculous sum Brett pays for all his stuff and keeps his head turned away from the next person in line for a moment longer than usually, not that they can’t tell anyway how incredibly flustered he is. “Thanks,” he says hoarsely, “have a nice evening.” 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Brett says, boring his eyes into Nolan’s to make sure he’s got his attention when his lips form the “sweetheart” he doesn’t say out loud. What a damn tease, Nolan thinks to himself. He was smugly aware of having the greatest boyfriend in the world after their quickie in the storage room, but now he’s not even sure that that’s what Brett originally came for anymore. Why he ever believed that he would be the one to sweep Brett off his feet for once suddenly seems beyond him. 

 

The rest of his work shift is pure torture, and although he thinks that during almost every work shift, especially when he knows Brett’s waiting for him at home, this time it’s real. Brett has something planned for the night, and Nolan has seen just enough to become incredibly curious. He just wants to go home, he thinks as he scans articles and takes money and hands out receipts. He thinks the same when he resumes filling the shelves later, and when he cleans up the store at night. 

 

On his way home after the store is finally closed, Nolan is as excited as he hasn’t been in months. He almost runs, so he arrives home panting and slightly sweaty. It smells wonderfully like dinner, music is playing calmly in the background, and Brett comes out of the bathroom to meet him in the hallway when he hears the door closing shut. 

 

“Finally,” Brett sighs, closing the distance with two large steps, taking Nolan’s face in his hands and kissing him like they haven’t seen each other in ages, not that Nolan can blame him. They greet each other like they always do when they come home, not necessarily home to Nolan’s little apartment, but home to each other and their shared intimacy, wrapping their arms around each other and standing leaned against another, Brett’s nose in Nolan’s hair and Nolan’s lips against Brett’s collarbone, hugging each other in silence until their hearts beat in synchrony and their minds have left the outside world behind, until nothing’s left but what really matters. 

 

“You’re a meanie,” Nolan mumbles then, not letting go of Brett. Brett laughs. 

 

“It was just as hard for me to wait, just in case that makes you feel any better.” 

 

“I didn’t show up at your work to make it any harder though,” Nolan points out, trusting that Brett knows better than to think he’s complaining. 

 

“No, you were busy raiding all of Beacon Hills’ flower shops,” Brett laughs, squeezing Nolan’s arm. 

 

“For the record,” Nolan mutters, “I paid for those flowers.” A little more quietly he adds, “Since I’m no good with actually planting them.” 

 

“Beautiful,” Brett says, leaning away just far enough that he can put a finger under Nolan’s chin and make him look at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you, my love. I went full swooning fangirl when I came home, and you can ask Liam to confirm it, he got snapchats.” 

 

Nolan smiles. He would have loved to see that, but he knows that if it’s up to him, he’ll stick around long enough to get more chances. Birthdays, Christmas, the next Valentine’s Day. They’ll have all the chances. 

 

“There’s more,” Nolan whispers. 

 

“Oh, there’s a hell of a lot more,” Brett nods, and before Nolan knows it, he’s got him picked up off the ground and practically thrown over his shoulder, one hand holding his legs down and one hand on Nolan’s ass for what must be highly important safety purposes. He walks down the short hallway and carries Nolan into the bathroom that doesn’t look like Nolan’s tiny bathroom anymore. 

 

The lights are out. Instead, there are candles everywhere on top of the sink and the little dresser in the corner, on top of the laundry basket and inside the empty shower, but especially around the bathtub that’s filled with steaming and slightly purple shimmering water. 

 

“Thought you might want to relax a little,” Brett murmurs in Nolan’s ear. “Especially after this really intense work shift.” 

 

Nolan slaps his arm playfully for being so smug about it, but the warmth inside the little room and the lovely smell seem to be reeling him in so he lifts the hem of his shirt, ready to throw it away. 

 

“Let me do that for you,” Brett says as he stops him, and Nolan lets it happen, knowing that there’s absolutely no point in discussing with Brett about how much loving care is really necessary. All of it, Brett thinks, and sometimes Nolan just gives up and gives in instead of pointing out how ridiculous he is. 

 

This time, because it’s Valentine’s Day, he stands still and lets Brett undress him, enjoys the soft touches on his skin and the even softer kisses. He doesn’t even protest when Brett lifts him up again, insisting to let Nolan down into the hot water with his own arms, slowly and carefully. It feels amazing, the hot water doing its work on Nolan’s tired limbs as well as being held and cared for. Brett gets rid of his shirt and the sweatpants he was wearing, takes care not to throw any of the clothes into a candle and then gets into the tub behind Nolan, raising the water level just to the edge of the tub as if it’s always been made to fit the two of them. 

 

Nolan sinks back against Brett’s chest and closes his eyes, not opening them when Brett starts washing him with a sponge or when he's made to sit up so that Brett can shampoo his hair and massage all the thoughts of anything other than the two of them out his head. 

 

“If you want me to be of any use for anything later,” Nolan warns him, “you should stop being so damn soft. I’m going to be all mushy and sleepy for the rest of the night. I feel like that wasn’t really the purpose of any of this.” 

 

“I don’t want you to be of use to me, I want you to be happy, Noley,” Brett replies before he starts rinsing out his hair. 

 

“Happiest man on earth,” Nolan declares. He means it, even if he sounds like he’s far away. 

 

“Second happiest,” Brett argues. Nolan lets him have it, because he knows it isn’t true, and because he can live with it if this is the only thing they disagree on. The water has gotten cold and Nolan isn’t sure he wasn’t asleep for a while there, so he gets up on his feet when Brett does and allows him to wrap a blanket around Nolan and rub him down. 

 

Brett dries Nolan’s hair, and Brett runs to get some clothes for him, a pair of Nolan’s sweatpants and one of his favorites out of Brett’s hoodies to wear. He blows out all the candles in the bathroom except those that Brett insists to take with them to the living room. With the stress from work and the irritation from having to wait gone, with his skin smooth and his body relaxed, Nolan realizes how hungry he is just when Brett serves him the most delicious dinner he’s ever had, with pie for dessert and Brett massaging his calves while he empties his plate, the two of them sitting on the couch in the middle of their private little flower field in candle light. 

 

“I mean, I knew you’d never cease to amaze me,” Nolan says, patting his belly lazily, “but I’m actually surprised that apparently, it was your plan to take me out by overfeeding me and making me tired.” 

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Brett beams at him, tapping on his phone and turning the soft tunes of the music playing a little louder. “You don’t think I’ll have you up and fully awake in no time? So little trust.” 

 

“I wouldn’t say I don’t trust you, babe. But I guess I wouldn’t say no to a little demonstration of your talents either.” He grins and leans back in his cushion. He knows all of Brett’s talents, has spent months learning all about them, but he also knows Brett can’t resist a challenge like that. 

 

“Not so against getting spoiled anymore, are we?” Brett comments as he sets down Nolan’s legs on the couch and gets to his feet, smiling. 

 

“You know I can’t resist you when you start tempting me like this,” Nolan replies. Sure, they might have been together for a couple of months now, never separated for longer than half a day during work, but that doesn’t mean they’re beyond that part of their relationship where they can’t keep their hands off each other. They most definitely are not, and the feeling that wells up inside Nolan in that moment proves it, hot and tingly beneath his skin as he watches Brett swaying his hips softly to the rhythm of the music right in front of him, his cock stirring immediately although the rest of his body claims to be lazy. 

 

“Have I ever told you that you’re a damn good dancer?” Nolan asks, his eyes tracing the curves and edges of Brett’s body and the shadows whizzing over his skin. Brett has told him about wild teenage years spent at Sinema until the sun came back up, and a part of Nolan wishes he’d been there to watch him losing himself in the moment on the dancefloor, but instead he has Brett in his home, dancing for Nolan alone and nobody else, moving his beautiful body in the same way he does everything, with a grace and elegance that is subtle yet completely mesmerizing, drawing Nolan’s attention exactly where he wants it without having to say anything. 

 

Just like that, Nolan’s heart is racing and his skin on fire, like he’s seeing Brett for the very first time and is already addicted. He resists the urge to move closer and reach out for the sake of watching a bit longer, taking in every one of the long familiar details that come to his sight as Brett discards his shirt first and then pulls down the waistband of his pants and underwear just enough to show off the toned abs and his ridiculous hip bones. Regardless of just having eaten, Nolan feels hungry all of a sudden, licking his lips as Brett turns around, putting his hands above his head and down again, knowing exactly what the show of the muscles in his back and shoulders does to Nolan. 

 

The light from the infinite number of candles and one single lamp in the far corner of the room make an extra pretty effect while Brett is dancing and teasing Nolan, tugging at his clothes but not getting properly naked. Fascinated, Nolan watches, his eyes flicking up to Brett’s when he’s looked at. They’ve gone from playful and cute to sexy and sinful. Brett reaches down his pants and moans as he grips himself, but won’t let Nolan see what he’s so desperate to see in that moment, biting his lip instead until Nolan can physically feel himself leaking. 

 

He’s not warm and sleepy anymore, he’s hot and ready to get himself what Brett has been silently promising all day long. “So you want to play a game, huh?” He asks, his voice low and breathless. “Fine. Go ahead and play, then. I’ll watch.” And with that, he pulls his pants down just far enough to pull his cock out, eyes not leaving Brett and his seductive dance moves for a second as he begins stroking himself. 

 

Brett seems a little surprised, although he should have anticipated what would happen if he kept teasing Nolan. It’s gone this way countless times before. Brett likes to take all the time with Nolan, likes to make sure every inch of him has been thoroughly touched and kissed and sucked at, likes to take him apart slowly, piece by piece until he doesn’t remember his own name, only Brett’s. Patience isn’t Nolan’s strongest suit though, never has been, and the only way to keep him from grabbing every part of either Brett or himself he can get a hold on is to tie his hands up and out of the way. 

 

This time, Brett didn’t plan that far ahead apparently, so nothing keeps Nolan from touching himself.

 

“You should stop that,” Brett warns him, although he’s very obviously doing the same thing as Nolan with the hand down his pants. “I don’t want you to come yet.” 

 

“And I want to be fucked by my boyfriend,” Nolan replies, fastening his pace instead of slowing down. He can tell that he’s messing with Brett’s perfect performance. He’s distracting him. 

 

“Always so greedy, Noleyboy.” 

 

“I think you don’t know what it’s like to be with you. I deserve a medal for ever leaving our bed, and especially this apartment.” 

 

Brett throws his head back and laughs. “I’m not kidding,” Nolan says. “Come here and I’ll prove it.” He shimmies out of his pants while still jerking his dick, stretching out on the couch, leaning back and moaning. He knows he’s won this round when Brett grabs his wrists to stop him from having all the fun alone, then pins them down above Nolan’s head and straddles his hips. 

 

“Didn’t I tell you to stop touching yourself?” Brett asks, sending a shiver down Nolan’s spine with the intensity of the look on his face. It drives Nolan insane when he’s being held down and treated a little roughly. He loves the reminder of how strong his boyfriend is, how easy it is for him to make Nolan do whatever pleases him. 

 

Nolan on the other hand plays his part too, blowing hair out of his face and arching his back, struggling against Brett’s hold and trying to rub his cock against Brett’s thigh. Everything Brett ever does makes him utterly weak, and every part of this Valentine’s Day is perfect. The little visit at work, the excited anticipation, the coming home and the softness and the bath, the candlelight and the flowers and dinner, but nothing makes him feel quite like this, quite like when Brett is close to him but not yet close enough, when all Nolan can think about is how to get him closer. 

 

“Baby, please,” Nolan whines. “Kiss me.” 

 

Brett feels like he’s the one in control before he leans down for a kiss, but Nolan knows exactly that this is his trump card. He sucks on Brett’s lower lip and then bites it, drawing a moan from the mouth against his own. He nibbles at Brett’s jaw and fights against him to get his neck where he knows he can distract Brett for good. A shudder goes through Brett’s entire body every single time Nolan does this, kisses a line along his long neck, sweet pecks at first, then long, lingering kisses. He flicks his tongue out and sucks on the skin. Brett would never pull away from it, seeing how he loves carrying Nolan’s marks around like he does few other things in the world. 

 

A bruise is forming over Brett’s pulse and Nolan seizes his momentary distraction to put all his body strength in one swift move to flip them over, Brett’s legs still spread around his middle, his fingers still wrapped around Nolan’s wrists, but Nolan’s hands are on his chest now, and he’s on top, perfectly able to circle his hips and grind down. 

 

Like in every room of the apartment, there’s a lube stash in the living room, and Nolan doesn’t even have to leave his position to get it. “How about you lie back for a while now, huh? Let me take care of you?” Brett doesn’t fight him but drapes one of his ridiculously long legs over the backrest of the couch. He lets go of Nolan and lets his arm rest on the cushion instead, framing his face, making him look a little bit like he’s modelling for a painting. 

 

“Fuck, you’re so out of this world pretty,” Nolan mutters, unable to tear his gaze from Brett’s face and the flickering shadows on his cheekbones, taking note of every hitched breath and twitch and tiny lip bite that’s caused by his slicked up fingers playing with his entrance. He can see why Brett likes teasing him, now that he’s looking down at his boyfriend, watching as he lies there, squirming and pushing himself down to seek Nolan’s fingers. It’s hot, makes him feel wanted like he never thought anybody could possibly want him. Until a hot construction worker showed up at his workplace, that is. 

 

Instead of keeping still while Nolan fingers him open, Brett gets up on his elbows, moving along with Nolan’s rhythm except a little faster maybe. He’s practically writhing, his hair looking a little messier with every time he throws his head around, his moans drowning out the music in the background. 

 

“Sweetheart, I’m ready,” he presses out, so of course, Nolan goes a little more slowly and takes a little extra time to get him thoroughly prepared, hearing Brett growl in response and wrapping his legs around Nolan, reaching out to pull him down. 

 

“Mm, so greedy,” Nolan whispers with a triumphant smirk. Instead of giving in, he leans down and catches one of Brett’s nipples between his teeth, nibbling at it until Brett sounds like he’s going completely insane with lust before he finally decides that he can’t wait to be inside any longer and fishes for a condom from the not so secret lube hiding spot.

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, babe,” Nolan mutters as he sinks inside him. Brett’s lips part for a response that dies on them as Nolan buries himself deep inside him, fingernails digging into one of Brett’s thighs and his hip. 

 

“Fuck me, sweetheart,” Brett begs, and Nolan obeys willingly, snapping his hips and thrusting inside him relentlessly, fast and hard until Brett’s back arches off the couch and his moans turn thin and breathless, only to stop for a moment and then begin again, slowly, pulling all the way out before pushing in, relishing the feeling of Brett’s tight heat around him before he fastens the pace, pushing both of them higher until he has to stop again. 

 

He repeats the same thing until Brett lets out a strangled sob when he stops, shaking as he holds still, his eyes widening in disbelief that Nolan would push him so close to the edge again just to pull him back at the very last possible second. 

 

“Noley,” Brett whimpers, his hands squeezing Nolan’s arms. 

 

“Yes, my love?” Nolan asks sweetly just before he starts the merciless thrusts again. 

 

“Don’t stop again. I’m begging you.” 

 

Nolan is tempted to comply. Brett feels fucking amazing around him, and every time he’s reached a certain pace, all he wants to do is give in and finish them both off, but he doesn’t just want Brett to come, he wants him to explode and see stars. 

 

“Nolan!” Brett whines when Nolan’s hips are still again. As if he had any room to complain. “You’re asking for it, aren’t you?” 

 

“Maybe I am,” Nolan replies, but he’s barely finished his words when Brett is suddenly on top of him again, straddling him and pinning him down, not by holding his wrists this time but with a big hand wrapped around Nolan’s throat. 

 

“Enough with the games,” Brett whispers, squeezing his fingers tight so that Nolan becomes hyper aware of every one of his own shallow breaths. He waits for Nolan’s fingers on his thigh to give him the sign that it’s okay, that he isn’t hurting or restricting his breathing too much. Nolan is turned on beyond belief by the feeling, Brett looking down from his position on top of him, the weight of a hand around his throat, the thrill that comes with it, and Brett’s ass shaking around his dick, waiting to ride him. He taps Brett’s thigh twice and then digs his fingernails into the flesh when Brett starts moving, not slowly and with an increasing pace like Nolan did moments before. 

 

Brett is hungry and desperate to come. He can’t keep his free hand off of his leaking cock as he bounces up and down on top of Nolan. With Brett choking him, Nolan’s world narrows down to the weight on top of him. As great as it feels when Brett spoils him, it’s a pretty amazing thing for Brett to go and take from him what he needs, too. All he can do to warn his boyfriend of his impending orgasm is wrap his fingers around Brett’s wrist and squeeze it.

 

Brett knows Nolan and his kinks well enough to react to this by pressing down a little harder, almost taking his breath away, quite literally, riding him through his climax and milking him empty. 

 

As soon as Nolan is capable of opening his eyes again, he pulls Brett’s hand away from his throat and wraps his fingers around Brett’s cock, a new wave of excitement washing over him as Brett gets up on his knees and closer to Nolan’s face, towering over him while Nolan jerks him off and sticks his tongue out, tasting only the beads of precome first and then lapping up eagerly what Brett shoot all over his face. 

 

“Best. Valentine’s Day. Ever.” Brett has decided by the time he falls down into the cushions. 

 

“Yeah,” Nolan nods, “I might have felt like it didn’t start out so great, but I think I’m not complaining anymore now.”

 

“And besides,” Brett says seriously, “much more important than Valentine’s Day is the day after Valentine’s Day.” 

 

“It is?”

 

“Yeah. It’s for boyfriends to have a day off together and stay in bed all day to fuck like rabbits and plan their vacation. Everyone knows this.” 

 

“Their what?” Nolan isn’t sure he heard that correctly.

 

Brett can only laugh. “Oh, how I love you, my sweetheart.” 

 

*

 

“You know,” Nolan says as he once again sits in the bed naked with his guitar on his lap, Brett looking up at him, “a lot of great artist have written a lot of amazing love songs. I should know, because I did my research. Some of them have been huge hits, have become famous and popular beyond their generation. And then there’s a really shitty one that not a single twelve-year-old emo girl has commented on on YouTube, so don’t look it up, just assume that my interpretation of it is the real thing, okay?” 

 

“Okay,” Brett smiles, putting his phone away and beaming at Nolan, eager to listen. 

 

He will never not be at least a tiny bit nervous with his guitar in hand and a song on his lips, Nolan thinks, but then again, maybe the shimmer in Brett’s eyes is the same one he has in his own when he watches in awe as his boyfriend does something he believes out of this world beautiful. 

 

_ We ain’t been alone since the day we met  _

_ And we can’t keep our hands to ourselves  _

 

_ I knew it in the car that night when you looked left and I looked right  _

_ And we both grinned _

_ Stayed out a little longer, found the fire a little stronger _

_ Than we ever planned _

 

_ Oh, something about you _

_ Something about me _

_ Something about us _

_ We didn’t know that we could fall this hard _

_ But we gave this thing a hell of a start _

_ Picked up each other’s pieces and parts _

_ And said, ‘Hey baby, these are our hearts’ _

_ Yeah, these are our hearts _

 

The melody ends in a weird and ugly sound as Brett surges forward and captures Nolan’s lips in a kiss until they’re breathless and grinning against each other’s lips. They haven’t been alone since the day they met, not even when entirely too many miles were separating them. They made it through that, overcame distance and insecurities and became each other’s home. Their first Valentine’s Day is just another step on the path they’ll be walking together, side by side, hands holding onto each other. A whole life lies ahead of them, and Nolan can’t wait to live it. 

 

“Now, about that vacation…” 

 

“Yes!” Brett cheers, sitting back down and pulling the tablet from the night stand in his lap. “Where do you want to go? What do you want to do? Tell me everything.” 

 

“You’re crazy,” Nolan whispers, shaking his head, snuggling up against Brett so they can look at the screen together. 

 

“I’m in love, Nolan.” 


End file.
